


Jazz

by thevault



Series: Nights Like These [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Harrington, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marijuana, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Pre-Season/Series 03, Recreational Drug Use, Top Billy Hargrove, just a lil tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevault/pseuds/thevault
Summary: Max had started to give him weird looks from across the mall, and even Nancy had called him to ask if he was okay every now and then, which was really the worst of what had come out of this.Honestly, Steve never thought things would have turned out the way they did.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Nights Like These [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625281
Comments: 33
Kudos: 510





	Jazz

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyy, my first Harringrove fic!! I'm going to be late to work for posting this lol but it's finally here and its... extremely long. This takes place in the months between Steve and Billy graduating and the beginning of s3, Dustin is still at camp and nothing bad has happened yet!! I hope you guys enjoy :)

Steve wasn’t sure when he’d become friends with Billy Hargrove, he wasn’t sure when or how or _why_ , but it had just sort of… happened. He figured it was somewhere between getting his face beaten in (for the second time) and realizing he didn’t have any friends over the age of fourteen. Maybe it was out of desperation, finding friendship in an enemy, but if he was desperate that meany Billy was, too. There was a time Billy wouldn’t have been caught dead with him, not unless it was to taunt him or humiliate him and more often times than not, both. But now, Billy always seemed to be where Steve was, with no less taunting or humiliation, mind you.

At first, Steve thought he was just a convenient place for Billy to hide from Neil. With his parents never being home it was easy to let Billy stow away on his couch for a couple of nights at a time, and even though Steve hated Billy’s guts he wasn’t about to turn him down from a safe place to sleep. It was common knowledge that his parents were never home, so it didn’t exactly surprise him when Billy had come up to him after a shift at _Scoops_ and asked what he was doing later.

Okay, that was a lie. It _had_ surprised him, shocked him into silence, even. He’d just stared at Billy like he had eight heads, feeling small and lost and embarrassingly idiotic in his stupid sailor uniform. Apparently, Billy had just dropped Max off at the mall for the day and hadn’t wanted to go back home for reasons, at the time, Steve was unaware of. Unsurprisingly, when Steve had tried to ask questions Billy had only gotten angry and told him to take the invitation to be around someone who wasn’t in middle school or leave it. The case of beer in Billy’s trunk was reason enough to say yes.

At the time, Steve had taken the encounter as a win. Billy might as well have admitted that he didn’t have any friends either, and that knowledge was enough to make Steve feel smug as could be. Billy, the bastard that had dethroned him, that had taken his spot at the top everywhere he could, had no friends. In hindsight, it was sad, but then? Steve had felt like he deserved it. Billy was an asshole, to his sister, to the girls he slept with, and to everyone else around him, it was no wonder he didn’t have any friends. But Steve supposed that if he’d truly felt that way, knowing as little as he did about Billy Hargrove, he wouldn’t have accepted the invitation.

So, again, maybe it was desperation, maybe he felt some kind of comfort knowing that he wasn’t so different from Billy. Whatever it was, it had lead him to probably the most unexpected friendship of his lifetime, and he knew everyone else around them felt the same. Robin constantly gave him shit about it, always asking why he would befriend someone who beat him to a ‘bloody pulp’, as she had so graciously described it. Max had started to give him weird looks from across the mall, and even Nancy had called him to ask if he was okay every now and then, which was really the worst of what had come out of this.

Honestly, Steve never thought things would have turned out the way they did. He thought Billy was going to try to fight him or drown him in his pool or something that night. They hadn’t ended up doing much of anything, really. Summer had just started, so it was warm enough to sit around the pool. They sat two seats apart and neither of them swam, just drank beer and sat in silence for an unnaturally long period of time. Steve was uncomfortable almost the entire time, and he’d wished he’d gone inside to change out of his uniform at some point, but the comfortable parts of the silence were almost… nice.

Billy didn’t stay over that night, just abruptly stood up at some point and said he had to pick Maxine up or else he’d have to hear it from Neil, and then he was gone like he’d never even been there. Steve didn’t ever expect to see him again, at least not at his house, not in that context, so he’d polished off the rest of the beers and went to bed feeling confused. For a little while he thought maybe that had been Billy’s weird way of apologizing to him, but then Billy kept showing up, either at the mall or right at his front door, with beer and cigarettes.

After that there was a natural progression to things. They actually started talking, about trivial things at first, then about Steve’s parents, about Maxine and Susan, and eventually about Neil. Billy only ever talked about Neil when he was wasted and Steve always knew when it was coming, could see how Billy’s face hardened and his jaw set tight; Billy always slept over on those nights. A lot of things started to make more sense about Billy over time; the anger, the resentment, the self-loathing. Billy Hargrove was just as fragile as anybody else.

Not all of their nights were dark though, not by a long shot. Things started off like that, sure, but then they started to actually have fun together. Steve found out pretty quickly that Billy was good at making him laugh, and even though they still had plenty of jabs at each other they were much more light-hearted than they used to be. They actually started to use the pool, and Steve would never forget how easy it was for Billy to pick him up and toss him into the water. They’d stay up late playing board games even though Billy usually complained, and sometimes they’d just lounge around Steve’s room listening to Billy’s record collection arguing over whether vinyl or cassettes were better. Billy introduced him to a lot of great music, and _Separate Ways_ had officially been dubbed their song of the summer. They were each other’s escape, Billy from the encroaching presence of his father and Steve from the loneliness eating away at him.

They weren’t always holed up in the Harrington household, though. They saw movies and went to parties and sometimes even hung around at each other’s jobs just for the company; Steve learned the hard way that he didn’t have the same sun-kissed California skin that Billy did after he’d stood in the sun too long leaning up against Billy’s lifeguard chair talking crap about Heather Holloway calling out for her shift because she’d just gotten a perm. Billy poked at the sunburn on his shoulders for _days_ , then peeled off the flaking skin every chance he got; Steve would never admit he got some weird satisfaction out of that part, though.

So, maybe Steve did know when, and how, and why he was friends with Billy Hargrove, and anyone who questioned it could shove it up their ass.

The loud _’clank’_ of the frosted glass divider between the break room and the front desk of hell jolted Steve from his thoughts. He was greeted by Robin’s smug face, her sailor’s cap slightly askew.

“Your boyfriend is here, dingus.”

Steve might have been being a little dramatic when he spit soda all over the table, but he was definitely not embellishing how hard he was choking. He clutched at his chest as he bent over in his seat, coughing loud and open-mouthed as Robin snickered from behind the sliding glass panel.

“Why would you—,” Steve was cut short by more coughing, and Robin was already gone anyway. It wasn’t _true_ , Billy wasn’t his boyfriend, _obviously_ , and any normal, sane person would take the quip for the joke that it was, but it still made Steve nervous to think that someone might have heard her.

Steve didn’t bother cleaning up after himself, it was Robin’s fault there was Pepsi everywhere anyway, but he could feel that his face was still beet red from his coughing fit when he came from the back. The tips of his ears felt like they were on fire, and judging by the look Billy was giving him from where he was leaning up against the counter, he looked like an idiot, and not because of his uniform.

“You all right there, Gilligan?” Billy asked around an unlit cigarette as some girls waiting for ice cream swooned at his mere presence. Steve remembered when he made girls feel like that, now all he had was six tally marks on the _’YOU SUCK’_ side of Robin’s white board. If he turned his head just the right way, though, he could see the world from an angle where Billy’s attention was on him, not those girls.

“Just get me out of this place,” Steve grunted as he yanked the sailor’s hat from his head, anxiously running his fingers through his hair four, five times to smooth out the edges and fluff out his hat-hair.

“Rough day out at sea?” Steve could hear the grin in Billy’s voice, because for some reason the sea puns just really got him.

“That’s really never gonna get old for you, is it? Like, ever?” Billy was, in fact, grinning at his side when Steve glanced in his direction, his shoulders shrugging under his leather jacket.

“Is it ever gonna not bother you?” It was a fair point, but not one that Steve was about to address.

“So, what’s on the agenda tonight?” Steve asked as he fell into the passenger’s seat of Billy’s Camaro and kicked his feet up onto the dashboard. Billy was quick to punch him on the knee, and Steve was quick to put his legs down.

“I’ve got some killer Queen albums and— oh, check the glovebox.” Billy was grinning again, in that way that made his eyes crinkle and his tongue stick out a little. Steve hadn’t even seen him light his cigarette but the smoke was wafting through the car now, that particular brand of menthol that always reminded him of Billy clouding his mind.

“The glovebox?” Steve muttered as he pulled it open just as Billy cranked his window all the way down, sucking all the smoke out of the car as he peeled out of the parking lot. Idly, Steve cracked his window open as well, the hot summer air doing little to cool his dewy skin.

Underneath the startling amount of parking and speeding tickets was a little plastic baggy, tucked back in the deepest corner of the glovebox. Steve had a feeling he knew what it was, confirmed that he definitely knew what it was when the strong, skunky smell emanated from its hiding spot. Steve was no stranger to marijuana, not entirely, anyway. He’d seen it before, watched people roll joints, passed through the thick smoke at parties. Tommy had always been a big fan of it, Nancy had strongly discouraged him from it, and Steve? Well, Steve listened like the love-sick puppy he was back when he’d been dating Nancy Wheeler.

Ergo, Steve was going to smoke pot for the first time.

Steve pulled the baggy from the glove compartment and brought it to his noise, taking a deep inhale of the scent. He didn’t know enough about pot to make a deduction just from the smell other than that he liked it, and that he was damn excited to try it. Steve had a feeling Billy had a lot of experience with the drug, so at least he knew he’d be in good hands.

“Well? Whadda’ya think?” Billy was still smiling to his left, looking between the road and his friend. Steve swore Billy was practically bouncing in his seat, the car accelerating just a bit in excitement.

“You’ve done it before?” Steve asked stupidly, putting the baggy back into the glovebox before he kicked it closed. Billy quickly reached over to pinch Steve’s earlobe, no doubt a punishment for the abuse to his beloved car, causing Steve to curse and rub at the sore spot.

“You haven’t?” Billy was quirking his eyebrow curiously now, his foot a little heavy on the break as they approached Steve’s driveway faster than he must have been anticipating. Steve slid across the leather seat a few inches as Billy whipped into his driveway, tires skidding along the way.

“Uh, I mean… I think I got a contact high once at Tommy’s house?” It sounded like more than a question than an answer, Steve’s voice squeaking up towards the end. He was a little embarrassed to admit he’d never smoked before, at least not anything other than a cigarette, and the menacing grin on Billy’s face wasn’t exactly helping. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Steve narrowed his eyes at the other boy suspiciously.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Billy remarked as he put the car in park, “damn, Harrington, I knew you were a loser but I didn’t think you were _that_ much of a loser. You surprise me every day.” There was a breathy tone to Billy’s voice, as if he were speaking fondly of Steve and not insulting him.

Steve rolled his eyes, nice and dramatic so Billy would see, as they both climbed out of the Camaro. He quickly dipped back into the car when Billy reminded him to get the ‘stuff’, stuffing it into his pocket nervously as if someone was going to catch him with weed on his own property. “Oh, shut up. If anyone’s a loser it’s _you_ for thinking you’re cool just because you smoked pot before me.”

“There’s a lot of things I’ve done before you, Harrington, but that’s got nothing to do with how cool I am.” Steve glanced over his shoulder at Billy just as he popped a stick of gum into his mouth, chewing around a smile. Steve could only roll his eyes again as he stepped inside the house, kicking his sneakers off as he went.

“I really don’t think I want to know what that implies,” Steve hopped up a few steps to the second floor before he spun around and leaned against the banister. Billy was crouched down near the front door still, working on untying his boots enough to take them off. “Are you implying anal? I feel like you’re implying anal, I’ve heard the girls in California are…,” Steve wiggled his fingers nondescriptly, “adventurous. God knows the chicks in this lame-ass town would never.” Any girl he’d ever asked was a hard no, _especially_ Nancy.

“What?” The question was sharp as Billy finally stood and kicked his boots off. “Why did you go straight to anal?” Steve could have sworn Billy’s cheeks were red, in fact, Steve could have sworn Billy was red all the way down to his collarbones, which were clearly visible thanks to Billy’s obscene habit of keeping his shirts unbuttoned down to the fourth button. Who the hell dressed like that, anyway? Steve supposed he didn’t have much room to talk considering he was wearing a sailor’s costume. At least Billy pulled his look off, Steve just looked like a kid on Halloween.

“So is that a yes?” Steve bit his lip and quirked his eyebrow, continuing his way up the stairs backwards. The arch of his brow only heightened when the flush on Billy’s tanned skin darkened, but then Billy was stalking towards him threateningly, footsteps too fast for Steve to keep up walking the way he was. It was only a matter of time before his heel caught on one of the steps, sending him flying backwards with a loud thump as his head knocked against the top step.

“Ahh, fuck,” Steve hissed and rubbed at the back of his head, peering up at Billy’s looming figure above him. Steve was hyper-aware of where Billy’s calf brushed the front of his shorts, his foot planted firmly on the step below Steve’s crotch, right between his legs. There was a tingling sensation all along his groin, kind of like the anticipation of getting kicked in the nuts but not quite; it wasn’t the first time he’d felt that way so close to Billy. Reflexively, Steve’s legs closed a few inches, the inside of his thighs brushing against Billy’s leg. Steve’s shorts suddenly felt too short, his bare skin brushing the rough denim hugging Billy’s toned calf and sending goosebumps up his spine.

Billy leaned down close, the necklace he always wore swinging down to tap Steve on the chin. Billy’s blush was gone, all confidence and cool composure again; a shame, Steve had liked that shade of red on him. Billy licked his lips in a quick, smooth stroke of his tongue, and Steve would by lying if he said he didn’t trace the motion every single time Billy did it, and Billy did it _a lot_. How could someone be so overtly sexual, like, all the time?

“You jealous, Harrington?” It was enough of an answer for both of them, Steve just hoped his silence didn’t give as much away.

Billy’s face split into a wolfish grin and his necklace swung one final time, tapping Steve on the nose as Billy stepped over him and continued on his way. Steve sat on the steps for probably a little too long, staring dumbly at Billy’s boots at the bottom of the stairs. His heart was hammering in his chest, loud in his ears and hot in his veins. He blamed his reaction on the power Billy held over a room, how he commanded everyone and everything in it without so much as trying, but maybe that feeling spoke more about Steve than anything.

Quickly scrambling to his feet, Steve followed after Billy into his bedroom, not surprised to find him already lounging on his bed. Part of him wanted to ask what it was like, having sex like that, but the smarter part of him knew to keep his mouth shut. Instead, Steve took to shucking his clothes off, ready to be out of his work uniform.

“What albums did you bring?” Steve asked casually as he pulled the bag of pot out of his pocket and tossed it in Billy’s general direction. He could hear Billy shifting around on the bed, probably grabbing the bag he’d brought in, though that didn’t explain the way the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck stood on end. It felt like Billy was watching him, it _always_ felt like Billy was watching him, and Steve could feel himself flush at the idea. It wasn’t like Billy had never seen a guy naked before, hell, he’d seen _Steve_ naked before, between the showers when they were still in school and the skinny dipping that one night a couple weeks ago. So why did it feel like he stared?

Billy cleared his throat behind him, followed by more shuffling, and then the soft thud of his bag hitting the bed. “I’ve got _Jazz_ , _The Works_ , and I grabbed that Madonna album you love so much.” Steve could hear the shit-eating grin on Billy’s lips and Steve couldn’t help but smile a little, too.

“A guy sings along to _one_ Madonna song on the radio…,” Steve trailed off, like the rest was history, as he stepped into the pair of sweatpants he pulled from his drawer. Billy was chuckling softly behind him, and when Steve turned to face him there was a soft look in his eyes, the corners of his lips still turned up in a smile.

Billy looked so warm and comfortable, his leather jacket now sliding halfway off the bed where he’d discarded it, the sleeves of his shirt bunched up to his elbows. The late afternoon sun was filtering through the blinds and casting a golden glow on him, every particle of dust visible floating through the air between them, but even that seemed mystical in Billy’s presence, like an earthy forest mist. There was a certain gravity to the blonde-haired boy that always seemed to pull Steve in, like Billy was the sun and Steve was just another one of the many planets, revolving around Billy’s brightly burning existence. Steve remembered a time when he feared that fire, knew what it felt like to get burned up by the flames. He was glad things weren’t like that anymore, glad that Billy smiled at him more than he glared these days.

In an instant, the feather-light feeling of the room seemed to snap tense, their eyes locking on each other for an intense moment. The smile slowly slipped from Billy’s lips, his ocean blue eyes hardening like he was waiting for something to happen. Steve could see the way his shoulders tightened, squared-up and ready for… for what? What was happening right now, fizzling and crackling between them like firecrackers? It made Steve feel nervous and on-edge, his fingers curling in the fabric of the plain white t-shirt he still had yet to pull on. Whatever this was, it certainly wasn’t the first time either of them had felt it, and it only seemed to grow in intensity each time it happened. It had Steve’s gut twisting in a funny way, his knees a little wobbly and throat a little tight as he finally pulled his shirt on to break through the tension.

Steve was always the one to cave while Billy looked on, forlorn but steady.

“Why don’t you throw one on and I’ll grab us some drinks?” Steve was gone before Billy could answer, scurrying away like a skittish animal.

Once Steve was downstairs in the kitchen he could hear the floorboards creak above him as Billy moved about his room, and then the soft, muffled sound of music playing. He grabbed an old shopping bag from the pantry and stuffed it full of as many beers as he could fit without ripping the thin plastic, tucked a bag of chips under his arm, and made his way back up the stairs.

Billy was sitting on the end of his bed now, feet planted firmly on the ground as he bobbed his head to the beat of the music. He had a fresh cigarette between his lips and squinted at Steve through the smoke as he came through the door, smiling a little around the filter in his mouth.

“Prepared, I see,” Billy muttered, cigarette bouncing around each word. He took a deep inhale from it and breathed the smoke out through his nose, looking like some kind of broody dragon.

“I figured snacks would be necessary,” Steve remarked with a grin, dumping everything onto the floor rather noisily; not like it mattered, nobody was home. Steve plucked the cigarette from between Billy’s lips as he passed by to turn on his desk lamp, taking a drag from it himself. The sharp twang of menthol made him feel alert, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if this was what Billy’s lips tasted like. He’d never been a fan of menthol, not before Billy, anyway.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t eat dinner so I’m not really sure one bag of chips is gonna do it.” There was smoke still seeping out of Billy’s lips as he spoke, soft little puffs that looked like cold breath in winter.

The mattress sagged where Steve sat beside Billy on the end of the bed, feet tucked under him pretzel-style. “I’m sure we can raid the kitchen again later, ooh, or we could order pizza!” Steve was just bringing Billy’s cigarette to his lips again when Billy reached an arm around his shoulders and plucked it from his fingers, nearly pulling Steve into a headlock to tuck it between his own lips again.

“Mm, pizza sounds fuckin’ amazing and I ain’t even high yet.” Billy gave Steve’s shoulders a final squeeze, working a grunt out of him like some broken squeaky toy. Then he was reaching for the little baggy somewhere behind them on the comforter, turning so he was facing Steve, one leg up on the bed, his knee brushing against Steve’s hip.

“So, uh, this is probably a stupid question but how are we going to smoke that?” Steve shuffled around so he was facing Billy a little better as well, watching as Billy pulled one of the albums over and laid it flat on his bent leg.

“Damn, you really are a virgin, ain’t’cha, Harrington?” Billy’s voice had that teasing edge to it that made Steve blush, and his only retaliation was to reach up and flick that dangly little earring Billy wore so often.

“I told you I’ve never done it before! You gonna tell me or what?”

Billy huffed out a little chuckle and pulled what looked almost like an oddly shaped book of matches out of his pocket. Holding it between two fingers, he waved whatever it was in front of Steve’s face before tapping him on the nose with it.

“Rolling papers,” Billy said simply enough and placed the little book of papers down on the album. He pulled one out of the packaging and showed it to the other boy, placed it on the Madonna album, and opened the bag of weed. Somehow, the smell got stronger as he peeled it open and pulled a few pieces out. “Open the windows for me?”

Steve hopped off the bed without thinking, causing Billy to shout, “Jesus, Harrington! Fuckin’ up my whole operation!”

“Sorry!” Steve called over his shoulder as he leaned around the record player to open the window, cursing as he knocked it with his knee and sent the needle haywire for a second before the counterweight brought it back.

“You’re a goddamn mess,” Billy muttered around a puff of smoke, “hurry up and come over here, I’ll teach you how to roll.”

Steve opened another window before he made his way back over to the bed, being more careful with his movements so as not to ‘fuck up Billy’s operation.’ Billy motioned for him to scoot closer with the flick of his wrist, so Steve complied, tucking the toes of his left foot under Billy’s thigh.

“So this is, like, a blunt, right?” Steve narrowed his eyes seriously, because it was a serious question, but the absolutely stupefied, deadpan look Billy was giving him seemed answer enough.

“Are you joking?” Steve pursed his lips at the question, because Billy didn’t need to be _that_ rude. Steve’s silence only made him gawk more. “Holy shit, you’re not joking. Okay, this?” Billy held up the thin piece of paper again and Steve almost went cross-eyed with how close he held it to his face. “Is to roll a joint.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Billy threw his hands up in defeat, though the little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips didn’t go unnoticed.

“You’re clueless, ya hear me? No, they’re not the same thing. You use the tobacco leaf from a cigar to roll a blunt, that would absolutely trash you your first time smoking. These are just regular ol’ bleached papers, simple, easy, you’ll get the hang of it.” Billy winked at him, like a promise, and Steve had to look away to hide the heat creeping up his neck.

Billy talked him through his instructions as he demonstrated, crushing up the weed between his fingers, sprinkling it into the crease of the paper, shimmying it around until it was more or less evenly dispersed. Then came the part Steve didn’t understand at all. Billy made a few quick motions with his fingers, tucked one edge of the paper neatly under everything, unnecessarily made eye contact with Steve as he licked a slow stripe up the length of the paper, and then suddenly it became a perfectly rolled _joint_. Billy topped it off by twisting one end and sticking a little piece of rolled up paper he ripped off of the packaging in the other.

“Voila!” Billy said triumphantly, holding the joint in one hand and presenting it like a game show girl with the other. “Your turn,” Billy pulled out another rolling paper, set it on the Madonna album, and pushed everything towards Steve.

“Wait, what?” Steve sputtered, looking between Billy and his tools. “I can’t do that! You showed me once! I didn’t even understand like, the last three steps!”

Billy leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed two cans of beer, popped them open, and handed one to Steve. When he took the can he relished in the damp coolness of the aluminum, relished in the way his fingertips brushed against the warm skin of Billy’s wrist. The first sip was always the best, cool and refreshing, and then Steve was fiddling with the tab on the top of the can, wiggling it back and forth until it snapped free with a loud twang.

“I said I was gonna teach you, how you gonna learn if you don’t try?”

Billy had a point, but Steve knew he was just going to embarrass himself. He was a little nervous and on-edge, and he was pretty sure Billy wanted him to fuck up just so he could make fun of him; that was Billy’s whole _thing_ , teasing Steve. But he could give it the ol’ college try, right?

Thankfully Billy was nice enough to coach him through it, repeating the steps to him out loud as he worked through the process. Steve thought he was doing pretty good (at the easy parts), working the weed into the strip of paper with ease. It was when it came time to actually roll the damn thing that Steve struggled, spilling half of it out of one end, crinkling the paper beyond repair.

“Okay, stop, stop, stop,” Billy said in a rush, reaching out to grab Steve’s hands so he didn’t mangle the poor thing more than he already did, “you gotta start from scratch, that thing’s pathetic.” Billy pulled out a new sheet of paper, helped Steve scoop the remnants of his last attempt into it, and let him work through the first few steps himself. Once he got to the rolling part Billy stopped him before he could get too far and reached over the Madonna album to take Steve’s hands into his own. Steve couldn’t help but notice he was wearing a ring today, a simple silver band around the middle finger of his right hand.

“I’m not really sure what you were trying to do before,” Billy pulled Steve’s hands closer to him, causing Steve to lean forward a little, “but it’s _this_ kind of a motion.” Billy worked Steve’s fingers the way he wanted to with his own, guiding the way. Steve was suddenly very aware of how clammy his hands were, and he definitely wasn’t absorbing anything Billy was demonstrating to him, too caught up in his own thoughts to focus. Regardless, Billy managed to work his hands the right away, rolling the joint not quite as good as the first but good enough.

When he pushed Steve’s hands towards his face he looked down at the joint dumbly for a second before he remembered he had to lick it, so he followed Billy’s lead on that, too. Steve made eye contact the same way Billy had as he licked along the paper, and it might have just been reflex but Billy licked his lips as his eyes traced the drag of Steve’s tongue. Billy pointedly let go of his hands then as Steve smoothed the paper down to seal it. He looked down at his work, still a little messy compared to Billy’s expertise, but it looked decent enough.

“I think I did pretty good,” Steve said as he held it out between them.

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause I did all the work.” Billy rolled his eyes and snatched the joint from his hand so he could add the finishing touches. Steve couldn’t really argue with that, he wasn’t wrong.

Billy put the filter end of the joint between his lips and fished a lighter out of his pocket, sparking the flint a few times before he brought the flame up to the end of the paper. He cupped his hand around where he was lighting the joint out of habit, and Steve noticed in the warm glow of the flame that Billy had freckles. Not many, just a light dusting over his nose, hardly even a shade darker than the rest of his skin, certainly nothing compared to his step-sister. But they were there, sprinkled over his skin from all the sun he got working at the pool. Steve wanted to kiss them.

After a few puffs once the twisted end of the paper burned away Billy passed the joint along while Steve took note of the way Billy held the smoke in his lungs, sucking an extra breath in through his teeth.

Steve’s attempt at taking a hit was much less graceful. He definitely pulled too hard, the smoke burning the back of his throat almost instantly and sending him into a coughing fit. It was much different from cigarette smoke, almost thinner, but it burned a hell of a lot more, though it didn’t give him that queasy feeling like that first drag from Tommy’s cigarette in the school parking lot freshman year.

“Jesus, Harrington, take it easy,” came Billy’s voice through his incessant coughing, a big, strong hand slapping down on his back a few times like he was being burped like a baby.

“Holy—,” _cough, cough, cough_ , “holy _shit_ , that hurts.” Steve’s voice was tight as he tried to keep his lungs under control and he was honestly amazed that smoke was still shooting past his lips with each stunted cough. He handed the joint back to Billy and reached for where he’d put his beer on the floor, taking a big swig in hops of cooling down the burning sensation in his throat.

“Yeah, I shoulda warned you,” Billy said nonchalantly, taking another hit, “oops.” He was grinning, eyes looking a little glossy already.

“Yeah, _oops_ ,” Steve muttered, taking the joint back to take a much more controlled hit. It still burned but not quite as bad as before, and he was able to hold the smoke in for a couple seconds before he started coughing again. Billy was laughing at him, smoke dripping from his lips seductively. It made Steve think of that time Tommy smoked pot at Carol’s house, leaned over and kissed her with the smoke still between his lips, passing the high along. Steve remembered thinking how intimate it had looked, their tongues twining together as smoke seeped through their joined lips. It had given Steve a hot rush of arousal then, as it did now.

He wanted to do that with Billy.

But then Billy was getting up, moving out of Steve’s view, and it wasn’t until he heard the needle lift from the record that he even realized that they’d reached the end of the first side. He listened for the click as the needly caught on the grooves, the static silence before, and then the smooth glide of the next song beginning. Everything felt so fuzzy, so _good_ , like he was walking through a cloud. Steve hadn’t even realized he’d been smiling until Billy sat back down on the bed and smiled back at him.

“So I guess it’s hitting good?” Billy asked, teasing, stealing a hit right out of Steve’s fingers.

“Yeah, yeah I think so,” Steve muttered, still smiling, smiling around the joint between his lips, smiling around each stuttered cough. Yeah, this was definitely good, everything feeling so muted yet so intense at the same time, everything feeling so _funny_.

When Billy took the joint again it was much more definitive, a cut-off point, and Steve was thankful for that. He told Billy as much, thanked him without even thinking about it, a breathy, _”thanks,”_ that got Billy giggling for some reason. Once Billy started giggling it all went down hill from there because then Steve started giggling, and the two of them fed off of each other’s laughter, passing it back and forth between them.

“Stop, _stop_ ,” Billy tried to plead, one arm wrapped around his belly, the hand of his other planted firmly on Steve’s shoulder. They were leaning into each other for support, keeled over in fits of laughter neither of them could control.

Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this carefree.

Billy had to catch his arm before he tilted his beer too far one way, thankfully preventing a spill, but it only made them laugh harder. The room smelled like cigarettes and pot and Billy’s leather jacket and Steve wanted to drown in it, wanted to be submerged in the warm, tender feeling that was buzzing about his senses. Nothing else seemed to matter in that moment, just him and Billy and the music, two normal teenagers spending a Friday night together.

Their laughter didn’t cease until their sides ached, tears in their eyes as they tried to catch their breath. Once Steve could see straight again he couldn’t stop looking at Billy’s face, the residual smile on his lips making the corners of his eyes crease up. He got the feeling that Billy hadn’t felt like this in a long time, either.

“Oh my god,” Billy finally breathed, taking a swig of his beer, “haven’t laughed that hard in forever.” Even though it was a sad statement it made Steve smile, some part of him happy and proud that he got to share that moment with him.

“Me either, man.”

“You got any candles?” It was an odd question, one that made Steve look up at Billy curiously.

“What, you tyin’a romance me, Hargrove?” Steve thought it was innocent enough, but Billy’s face set in a hard way, shoulders tense.

“I’m trying to make your room not smell like pot, jackass.”

Billy’s mood swings were no stranger to Steve, there was always something that could put the blonde boy on edge, subtleties that Steve couldn’t quite pinpoint. Steve put his hands up defensively, or maybe it was in surrender, eyeing Billy cautiously.

“Damn, okay, take it easy.” Billy seemed to soften around the edges at that, realizing he must have been overreacting. Steve swiveled around so he could reach under the drawer of his nightstand where a half-used candle sat, the top half of the glass black and charred.

“I usually use this to get the sex smell out of my room but it should work,” Steve said on a shrug as he handed Billy the candle to light. He only had it because it was the strongest smelling candle he could find, so needless to say it was very effective.

“Way too much information,” was all Billy had to comment, cursing as he burned himself trying to light it. Once it was lit he brought it up to his nose, smelled it, and then read the label. “Seriously, this is the only candle you have? Doesn’t really match the season.”

It was a Christmas candle, balsam fir or some shit, but it wasn’t Steve’s fault it was always Christmas candles that smelled the strongest. “Unless you wanna go digging around the house, yes, that’s the only candle I have.”

“I bet you tell girls you’re gonna give them some ‘Christmas cheer’ when you light this thing.”

Steve wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Uh, no, that’s weird.”

“Yeah, well you’re kinda weird.” Billy handed the candle back to him so Steve could stretch to put it on his night stand, and when Steve returned Billy was lighting up the other half of the joint. There was ash all over the Madonna album and definitely on his comforter, so Steve grabbed the ashtray from his desk, Billy’s stubbed-out cigarette butts sitting at the bottom.

“Can you do any smoke tricks?” Steve asked, because he just got the feeling that Billy _could_. Billy always seemed to know how to do anything cool or sexy.

“Mhmm,” Billy hummed around the paper in his mouth, one eye squinted shut just a little more than the other. He held the smoke for a minute, let the high sink in, and then curved his lips into an ‘O’ shape, puffing out perfect little rings of smoke like the caterpillar in _Alice in Wonderland_.

Steve made an impressed face, sucking in one of the ringlets when it drifted close to his face. “Wow, I’m impressed, Hargrove.” Billy winked and stuck his tongue out, expelling the rest of the smoke on a heavy exhale. Steve’s heart beat hitched, spiking for a fraction of a second.

“I can French inhale, too,” Billy’s tone was all cocky confidence, clearly proud of himself. Steve felt like a girl Billy was trying to impress, which only brought heat to his cheeks. He didn’t say anything, just waited for Billy to demonstrate, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth in anticipation.

Billy took another deep drag, his eyes never leaving Steve’s, though something did seem to change in them. They seemed to darken, eyelids hooded, which could have been from all the marijuana, but Steve got the feeling that wasn’t it. Billy was looking at him that way with a purpose, everything Billy did was with a purpose, calculated and mischievous. Steve fidgeted under his gaze, straightening his posture as the familiar pang of arousal settled in his gut.

This wasn’t the first time a simple look from Billy Hargrove left him horny and wanting, not by a long shot. Steve’s bisexual crisis was fueled by Billy, ignited by him and his chaotic presence. There was something strong and powerful about Billy that Steve craved, and even though it was hard to accept at first he’d learned pretty quickly that being bisexual wasn’t that big of a deal when he put it next to being chased by demodogs and wondering when the next supernatural being was going to try and murder him and all his friends. And now, with the buzz of a good high loosening him up, it was easier to accept than ever.

When Billy’s lips parted Steve was captivated, smoke spilling out a milky white as it drifted up through his nose like a waterfall in reverse. Steve wanted to kiss him, wanted to fall into the bed and figure out what his sexuality actually fucking meant. He wanted to find himself in Billy, figure everything out together in a messy pile of limbs. It was eating away at him, and his lowered inhibitions were making it difficult to keep himself in check. He wanted to suck the smoke right out of his lungs and pull at that messy mop of curls.

And then Billy blew the smoke in his face, hot and engulfing.

“Can I try something?” Steve asked much too quickly, mouth too dry. He chugged the rest of his beer with an open throat, remembering what Tommy had called it, liquid courage.

“Go for it,” Billy said around a smirk, passing Steve the little clip that was left. He took the hit slow so he didn’t hurt himself and get caught up in another fit of coughing. If he ruined the moment now he’d never go through with it, his nerves crackling like he was hooked up to an electric socket. He felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest, hands trembling as he tossed the roach into the ashtray. The adrenaline was maddening, his heartbeat drowning out the music at it thundered in his ears.

Steve accepted the fact that Billy was probably going to punch him, and lunged forward.

Their lips crashed together way too hard but thankfully Billy had enough cushion for the both of them, his full lips soft against Steve’s own. They kind of tasted like peppermint, like Billy had been wearing lip balm, smooth and buttery like it, too. Steve’s enthusiasm brought him tumbling forward too fast, his hand smacking down onto the Madonna album to catch himself, sending everything that had been neatly arranged on it flying. His other hand grabbed at the back of Billy’s neck, balancing himself there as he parted the other boy’s with his own.

Steve wasn’t sure if Billy was shocked stupid or what, but he seemed to be following Steve’s lead for now, opening his mouth to let the smoke pass between them. Kissing Billy wasn’t that much different from kissing a girl, not with his long hair and soft lips, lips that were fuller and pinker than Nancy’s ever were. The taste of him was definitely different, though that was mostly due to the smoke, and although his lips were soft and warm the rough brush of his facial hair was a dead giveaway. But Steve liked it, he liked it _a lot_ , liked the sharp sting of the hairs prickling his skin as he tilted his head just a little to one side.

When their tongues touched Steve couldn’t stop the moan that crept up the back of his throat, and he isn’t sure if it was the high or how good of a kisser Billy was but it all just felt so damn _good_. It was slow at first, the kiss, like they were figuring it out, trying to make sense of it all. But then it was like something in Billy snapped, a flurry of movements that Steve was sure were going to lead to that punch he’d been expecting, except it didn’t.

Billy’s hands were on his hips, dragging Steve into his lap with that same strength as when he’d thrown him into the pool. The first thing Steve noticed was how right it felt, sitting in Billy’s lap, straddling him like a girl. It made his toes curl with excitement, and he moaned into Billy’s mouth again when the other boy bit his bottom lip, pinching it between his teeth. It felt good, but Steve still flinched away in shock, gasping softly. There wasn’t much smoke left for them to breath out, but Steve was pleased to find that Billy had some to let loose. Steve had some tricks up his sleeve, too.

“Where are you trying to go with this, Harrington?” Billy all but growled, an edge to his voice that Steve had never heard. He didn’t sound angry, which was a huge relief, it was more like… desperate. Like there was something building up inside him that was going to claw its way out regardless of what Steve said if he didn’t answer fast enough. Steve couldn’t help but notice that Billy was just as out of breath as he was, just as tightly wound, and that sent a spark of desire up his spine.

“I…,” he paused before he really got anywhere, not quite knowing the answer to Billy’s question. What did he want? Fuck, he didn’t even know how this _worked_ , but he knew he wanted _something_. He laid his hands on Billy’s shoulders, tried to ground himself, but then Billy squeezed his hips. _Impatient_.

“What— _do you want?_ ” Billy asked the question through gritted teeth, fingers twisting in the soft fabric of Steve’s sweats. Even just this was exciting, Billy grabbing at him like he couldn’t contain himself but still _asking_.

Steve licked his lips once, twice, not sure if it was the cotton mouth or his nerves drying out his tongue. He wanted to kiss Billy again, he knew that, wanted to get his hand down Billy’s pants just so he could feel what it was like to hold someone else’s cock in his hand. But how was he supposed to put that into words? He could just be blunt about it, he supposed, but just the idea of saying any of that out loud made his cheeks flush and his heart race.

So naturally, Steve decided to take the route he knew best: talk way too much and make an idiot of himself.

“This is, um, probably gonna sound like, _really_ cheesy, but I um… I want… you.” Steve couldn’t look at Billy as he said it, his eyes downcast, caught on the dark pendant hanging low and slightly lopsided around Billy’s neck. He felt entirely too high right now, between the weed and the adrenaline-fueled arousal running through him. Everywhere Billy touched him felt so _good_ and he wasn’t even doing anything— where his fingers curled tight in Steve’s sweatpants, where his strong thighs pressed up against Steve’s ass, the cool brush of his fingertips as they slipped under the hem of Steve’s shirt and finally touched his bare skin.

“You’re the worst, Harrington,” Billy said on a smile as he pulled Steve into him again, taking control of the kiss this time.

Everything felt entirely too fast and entirely too slow at the same time, Steve’s mind struggling to keep up with all of the sensations. They kissed for what felt like hours but could have only been minutes, their mouths wet and puffy and _sore_. Billy’s hands were under his shirt, caressing up his ribcage, thumbs brushing his nipples and _oh_ , no one had ever touched those before. He must have made an embarrassing noise because Billy was breaking the kiss just enough to chuckle, and then he was touching them again, the same soft brush as before and then he pinched, hard and mean and god Steve swore nothing ever made his dick jump like that.

Steve’s mouth was open and panting as he moaned again, arching into Billy’s hands for more. There was a thought at the back of his mind, nagging at him, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was. He tried to focus and remember, but then Billy’s mouth was on his neck, sucking and biting like a hungry animal. There was a slight pull on his arms that left him confused, bringing his gaze down from where he’d been staring mindlessly up at the ceiling to where he was gripping Billy’s wrists. He hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed them, his grip knuckle-white, and then Billy pulled again, successfully shaking them free. The momentary shift in concentration was enough to get Steve to remember what he’d meant to say.

“Why am I the worst?” He breathed against Billy’s hair, the smell of his shampoo suddenly so strong in his nose. He took a deliberate inhale of it, committed it to memory just before Billy grabbed hold of his dick through his sweatpants and completely scrambled Steve’s brain.

“ _Ohh_ my god, oh fuck, _fuck_ ,” Steve panted as Billy began working his cock, and although the friction wasn’t the greatest between the layers of his sweatpants and boxers Billy seemed to know just what to do to make it mind-numbing. Steve couldn’t help but rock his hips into Billy’s rhythm, stuttering just a little every time Billy pinched the head on the upstroke.

“Did you hear yourself?” Billy asked, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of Steve’s throat with each word, breath hot where it ghosted over the slippery wet mark he’d left behind. “You sound like a fuckin’ idiot.”

Steve felt a new wave of heat blossom over his cheeks, dripping down to his chest until he felt over-heated, like he needed to get out of his clothes _now_ or else he would surely melt. He wanted to say something back, make Billy eat his words, but Steve couldn’t find his own. It was all too much, the heat, the pleasure, the high. He felt embarrassingly close to coming already, balls drawn tight as he neared the edge.

“Billy—,” Steve panted, desperate and _trying_ , “B-Billy, wait.” Even though he was trying to stop his hips only seemed to want to work faster, bucking into Billy’s fist helplessly. “Billy, _mmh_ , Billy, _Billy_ —,” he was so close, his voice squeaking higher and higher each time he spoke the other boy’s name, the heat in his belly coiling tight. _So close_ , back arching, toes curling—

“ _Ah!_ Fuck!!” Steve shouted, eyes squeezed shut tight as Billy pinched the head of his dick, _hard_. His right hand squeezed tight where it had come to rest on Billy’s shoulder, digging his fingernails into Billy’s back through the thin material of his shirt. He sucked a pained breath through his teeth and within seconds his orgasm was receding even faster than that time he’d almost gotten caught jerking it in the showers after basketball practice. Despite the sharp pinch of pain his cock throbbed in Billy’s grasp, a thick pulse he felt from base to tip as a glob of precum oozed from the tip and soaked right through both layers of clothing, making Billy’s thumb wet and tacky with the substance.

“You gonna come already, pretty boy?” It was meant to be mocking, Steve knew that, and maybe that was what he liked about it, but his cock gave another heavy pulse, twitching in Billy’s grasp at the nickname. That seemed to pique Billy’s interest, finally pulling his face free from where it had been shoved in Steve’s neck for the past however long. He had a wicked grin on his face, like he’d just discovered some dirty secret, and Steve could only look him in the eye for a fraction of a second before he cast his gaze downward.

“You like it when I call you that, princess?” Steve’s eyelids fluttered and his legs tried to snap shut at the rush of hot arousal that pulsed through him, though he only managed to squeeze Billy’s hips with his thighs. “King Steve likes a little bit of humiliation, huh? Who would’a thought?”

“Don’t—,” Steve sucked in a breath as Billy started mouthing at his jaw, his hand finally leaving Steve’s cock to grab his ass with both hands. He arched away from the touch a little bit, surprised, but Billy kneaded at the skin soothingly to get Steve to ease back into the touch. “Don’t call me that.”

Steve watched the sharp curve of Billy’s thick eyebrow arch curiously from where he was still sucking at his jaw, and Steve swore Billy could never not look condescending in his life. Steve hated that it suited him so well.

“Don’t call you what? Princess? Or King Steve?” Billy was mocking him, forcing him to say it out loud when he knew damn well which one Steve was talking about. If it were possible, Steve would be as red as a fire truck right now. He tried to ignore Billy at first, not warrant him with a response, but then Billy pinched his ass with that same meanness as earlier.

“Ow! Man, fuck you,” another pinch, to the other cheek, “okay, okay, stop!” Steve slapped at Billy’s forearms and licked his lips nervously, glad that the pinching had turned into a soothing kneading.

“Don’t call me King Steve…” He said it softly, barely a whisper, too embarrassed to speak any louder.

“So does that mean I get to call you princess?”

“Shut up.”

“Mm, whatever you say, _princess_.”

Steve would have had something to say if Billy hadn’t decided to start moving then, the Madonna album clattering to the floor with all of its contents with one swipe of Billy’s arm. With ease, Billy rolled them so Steve was lying under him up by the headboard, his head resting softly against his pillow. For a moment, it was hard for Steve to cope with how much he liked seeing Billy above him, caging him in with his arms, soft, blonde curls sliding over his shoulders. Billy was beautiful in a way that boys usually weren’t, hard but soft around the edges, a halo of light cascading around his curls from the lamp on Steve’s desk. Billy was every girl’s wet dream, and subsequently, Steve’s.

But that got him thinking, was Billy any other boy’s wet dream? Had any other boy looked up at Billy the same way Steve was now?

“Have you ever done this before?” Steve asked much too quickly as Billy was leaning down to kiss him, stopping the other boy short. He hovered a few inches from Steve’s face, staring into his eyes with that kind of intensity Billy always got when he wasn’t expecting something.

“With— with a guy, I mean.”

Billy shifted his weight onto one hand and moved his hips in closer to Steve’s, close enough that he had to spread his legs wider, could feel the hard line of Billy’s cock against him. Steve felt like a girl, or at least wondered if this was what it felt like to be a girl, spreading his legs and staring up at someone bigger and stronger than him, giving up all of his power to someone else. It made his heart race thinking about it, realizing he was giving something to Billy he’d never given before.

Billy tapped under Steve’s chin with his index finger twice, silently asking Steve to look at him more directly, not under the shadow of his lashes. Steve obeyed, tilted his head up so he could look at Billy directly, even if it made his nerves prickle.

“Yeah,” Billy breathed as he gripped Steve’s chin gently, pressed his thumb against his bottom lip, “I have.” Subconsciously, Steve parted his lips when Billy pulled on the bottom one, his tongue darting out to lick his lips only to be met with the rough pad of Billy’s thumb. It was salty, probably from Steve’s precum, and a little smokey from the joint. It should have grossed him out more that he could taste himself, but it only lit his fire hotter, fueled by the fact that it was Billy’s finger he could taste it on.

Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his body relaxing into the sheets. “Oh thank god,” he breathed, hands shyly reaching up to twist into the hem of Billy’s shirt, “because I haven’t and, like, I was kind of getting worried that nobody knew what they were doing here.” This was definitely one of those _Steve, you talk too damn much_ moments, but instead of complaining or making fun of him, Billy just smiled, soft and sweet. It was a smile Steve had scarcely seen before, usually only on nights when Billy had too much to drink and Steve said something that wasn’t meant to be funny but that Billy found funny anyway; in this context, it seemed to make more sense.

“I always know what I’m doing, Steve.”

It was an all-around cocky and arrogant thing to say but Steve decided to let it go, mostly because Billy had actually called him by his _name_ and he was kissing him again, hot and heavy like before.

Steve tried to keep his hands from trembling as he reached for what buttons of Billy’s shirt that were actually buttoned but the attempt was futile, his nerves getting the better of him. He fumbled awkwardly with each button, clammy fingers slipping and sliding as he tried to work the fabric open. The hand at his chin was now cupping the side of his neck, bringing an intimacy to the table that Steve didn’t even know Billy was capable of, let alone towards him. But it felt good, having someone reciprocate his feelings for once in his goddamn life. Billy’s warm hand became his grounding point, steadying him enough to finish what he’d started so he could push the thin material from Billy’s shoulders and let it flutter beside them on the bed.

Steve let his hands run down the length of Billy’s strong arms as he pushed the material away, tracing every twist and pull of muscle. His arms certainly weren’t anything like a girl’s, but Steve liked that, felt protected and safe under them. For a long time, Steve had felt like he had to do the protecting, herding the kids around everywhere he went, worrying about Nancy even after she’d moved on with Jonathan. He hadn’t been able to relax or put his guard down, and for a while Billy was a reason for that, too. But now Billy was a safe haven, a comfortable place to tuck himself into and hide, someone disconnected enough from all the awful shit in Hawkins but still close enough to understand.

Billy broke their kiss suddenly, and for the first time Steve realized just how _high_ he looked, eyes hooded and a little bloodshot around the edges. Steve could only imagine what he looked like, but imagining it only made him self-conscious.

“You still in there?” Billy asked, knocking against Steve’s temple with one of his knuckles.

“Huh?” It was all he could muster, too caught up in how effortless Billy looked, like he always did, like being as good-looking and smart and goddamn condescending was fucking easy. Steve could feel his eyebrows knitting together in frustration that was entirely centered around the fact that Billy had no right to be so easy going, like he’d done all of this a hundred times before and he’d do it a hundred times again.

“Your mouth was just kinda—,” Billy let his mouth hang open, showing rather than telling, “you still good?”

Steve nodded faster than he’d meant too, because honestly he wanted to get this show on the road, the last thing he needed was Billy thinking he wasn’t on board with it anymore.

“Yes, yeah, I’m…” Steve shook his head, tried to clear his thoughts, knew that over-thinking was the cause of his dead-fish mouth. “I’m good, this is good.” He propped himself up on his elbow to place an open-mouthed kiss to Billy’s shoulder, right beside his tattoo.

Billy was smiling at him again, the crinkly-eyed smile, and Steve wasn’t sure if it was the weed or if it was just _Billy_ , but it was contagious, his own lips curling up into a smile. A wet kiss to his cheek, the cool sensation of Billy’s pendant tickling his throat, all sending shivers down his spine.

Billy reached for the hem of Steve’s shirt and tugged gently before he splayed his hand flat across his belly, somehow warmer than Steve’s already too-hot skin. “Take your shirt off for me, pretty boy.”

It wasn’t a question, not that Steve needed it to be, his hands darting for the hem, fingers brushing Billy’s as he dragged the material up, up, and over his head. In the moment it took for Steve to pull the shirt over his face, blinding him for a fraction of a second, Billy had dipped down to start kissing at places he couldn’t reach before.

He started with Steve’s collarbones, grazing his teeth gently over the bone, kissing the divot between them. He kissed his way down the center of Steve’s sternum until he reached the top of his ribs, circling back around until the first brush of lips against a pert, pink nipple. Steve hadn’t even realized he must have frozen in place when Billy started kissing him until his arms finally fell above his head, still tangled in his shirt. Billy glanced up at him so quickly that Steve wasn’t even sure it happened, and then there was the warmth of Billy’s mouth, wrapped around the sensitive skin of his nipple, only licking at first, then sucking and _biting_.

“ _Billy_ ,” Steve murmured on an exhale, fingers gripping at the shirt still wrapped around his forearms. Billy hummed, bit, and pulled away with a resounding _’pop!’_

“You sound real pretty when you say my name like that, princess.”

It was all the reprieve Steve got before Billy moved on to the next one, leaving him breathless. He was squirming against the sheets, trying to grind up against the other boy or to arch up into his mouth. This wasn’t that kind of good feeling that had him on the edge, ready to explode in his underwear like he almost had earlier. No, this was entirely different, this made his skin prickle with goosebumps and made his cock throb like he was never going to get enough to get him there.

“Jesus, Billy,” Steve would never admit that the noise he made was an outright squeak when Billy started to twist the nub that wasn’t in his mouth between his fingers, “c’mon, I want more.”

Billy pulled away with a final bite and a pinch, his gaze falling on what Steve could only imagine was his pathetic face. “Only if you ask nicely, baby,” but his hands were already moving down, and Steve was already weak to the pet names and the hands on his skin.

“Please,” Steve breathed with less effort than he would have expected, arching his hips off the bed when he felt Billy hook his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats, “please give me more.”

Steve hated the way he sounded, practically begging, but he hated even more how much he liked doing it. It hardly took Billy much effort to get Steve where he wanted him, needy and wanting with his legs spread like a slut; Steve wanted to be a slut, not like he’d been a slut in the past, sleeping with every girl in town. He wanted to be a slut for Billy, wanted to give him everything and more.

It seemed that Steve was at least giving him some of what he wanted, judging by the way Billy bit his lip and looked him up and down like he was a goddamn snack, sitting back on his haunches so he could get a good view of everything. Steve didn’t want to think about what he looked like, half naked and arching off the bed, blushing down to his chest and _hard_ , so damn hard that his sweatpants were tented between them; at least Billy seemed to like what he saw.

“That’s better,” Billy finally said after staring for what Steve felt was getting a little close to too long, and then he was pulling Steve’s sweatpants _and_ boxers down all at once, letting them slide off the end of the bed and leaving Steve far too naked.

Reflexively, Steve brought his knees together, hiding himself from Billy’s piercing gaze as best he could. He felt like a blushing virgin, trying to cover up under the gaze of his lover— not that Billy was his _lover_ , but, whatever.

Steve wasn’t allowed to hide for very long, of course. Billy’s hands rested gently on his knees and pulled them apart, slowly, sliding them down the inside of Steve’s thighs with every inch more he managed to spread them open. Once Steve was spread wide again Billy’s gaze fell south, and then his eyebrows shot north, figuratively speaking. Steve’s gut twisted nervously, because no one had ever looked at his junk like _that_ before.

“W-what? What’s wrong?” Steve wanted to say something smart, like _’what, were you expecting a pussy?’_ , but the words wouldn’t come out, too sucked-up in feeling like something was wrong.

“I just… I’ve never been with a guy who shaved before, if I’m being totally honest.” Billy ran his fingertips along the smooth skin as if to demonstrate what he was talking about, pointedly avoiding Steve’s dick. “Haven’t been with many girls who do, either.”

Steve wanted to die, the heat in his face obvious even to himself. He suddenly felt _weird_ for doing it, and truth be told he hadn’t been with many girls who shaved, either. He’d kind of felt strange the first time he’d done it, but he hadn’t tried until after he’d broken up with Nancy, and he hadn’t gotten laid since then so it’s not like he had anyone to tell him if they liked it or not. He’d only kept it because it made his dick look bigger, and when he tried to grow it back it got so damn itchy he couldn’t take it. Now, underneath Billy, it made him feel feminine, and not at all like his dick looked bigger.

“I saw it in a porno once, okay?” Steve said quickly, avoiding Billy’s gaze, “I just wanted to try it, and now it gets too damn itchy for me to grow back, that’s all…” No, he was not going to admit the _’it makes my dick look bigger’_ part.

Billy wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and gave a firm stroke upwards, making Steve moan and arch off the bed. “Hey, you don’t gotta explain anything to me,” Billy said, rubbing his thumb over the slit, smearing the precum there, “I think it suits you.”

Steve wasn’t exactly sure how to take that, couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or a slight, but the heated, absolutely _hungry_ look in Billy’s eyes seemed to be a good sign.

“You got yourself all prettied up for me, princess?”

It felt like the air was punched right out of his lungs, his cock giving a violent twitch where it rested in Billy’s hand. Even though Steve hadn’t shaved _specifically_ for tonight (he never would have guessed that the night would end up this way) he nodded his head anyway and licked his lips, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Yes,” Steve whispered, eyes darting to Billy’s crotch, the thick outline of his cock inside his jeans, and the definitive throb that pulsed through it.

Billy groaned and reached above Steve’s head so he could pull the shirt away that was still wrapped around his arms, tossing it somewhere haphazardly across the room. He grabbed Steve’s wrists and guided his hands down to his belt buckle, forcing Steve into a sitting position, before he started to dig around in his pockets, clearly in search of something. Steve paid little mind to whatever Billy was looking for, though, too excited with the task at hand.

Steve unfastened Billy’s belt with a skilled ease he didn’t know he could possess, finally more comfortable with the situation now that they were both getting naked. Billy seemed to have found what he was looking for and tossed it on the bed, though Steve was still too transfixed to pay it any mind. Steve glanced up at the other boy from under his eyelashes when Billy’s fingers found their way into his hair, rooting deep against his scalp and scratching, moving in slow, steady circles. Billy was trying to relax him, and it was working, just the gesture alone turning Steve to putty in his hands.

“You like that, baby?” Billy asked, almost sounding _sweet_ , and all Steve could do was nod with half-lidded eyes.

Spurred on, Steve started to work Billy’s pants open while his mouth worked at Billy’s cock through his jeans, licking and humming around the warmth. Billy hissed above him and his fingers tightened in brown locks, pulling just shy of too hard. It made Steve sit up a little straighter and sent a shock of pleasure straight to his cock, his eyes finding Billy’s again as he mouthed at the head enthusiastically.

“ _Shit_ ,” Billy cursed under his breath, those full, pink lips parting just for him. It made Steve moan, knowing that he was the one making Billy look and sound so debauched.

When Steve finally tore Billy’s pants open and shimmied them down his hips he was only a little surprised to find that Billy had nothing underneath, just a dirty blonde tuft of curls coming through the zipper. Steve gasped a little at the sight, and if he still didn’t have cotton mouth he probably would have been drooling. He could see the base of Billy’s dick where it peeked out from the curls, weighed down by the confines of his jeans. Slowly, Steve ran his hand up Billy’s thigh, over the rigid line of his cock, and inside his jeans, hardly finding enough room to get his fingers wrapped around the base so he could pull him free.

“Wow,” Steve muttered, embarrassingly, when he finally got to feel the weight of Billy’s cock in his hand, got to see the girth of it and the way it curved up just slightly. He was completely transfixed by it, by Billy Hargrove’s fucking _cock_ , right there in front of his face, just a little shorter in length than his own but _thicker_ , so much thicker.

“Yeah? You like it that much, huh?” Billy’s taunting voice broke him from his stupor, a flush of realization painting his cheeks. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he definitely just said _’wow’_ upon his first interaction with another dick and instead gave the base a squeeze, reveling in the way it made the head get fat and ooze precum.

Steve didn’t bother responding to Billy’s taunt because yes, _obviously_ he liked it that much and a whole hell of a lot more. Instead, he decided to share another of his firsts with Billy that night, and what, that was like, the fourth now? He’d lost count.

His eyes were hooded as he leaned in, lips parting to let the tip of his tongue peek out, and he swore that Billy had stopped breathing, his whole body suddenly so stock still. Steve swiped the flat of his tongue along the slit of Billy’s cock, lapping up the clear bead of precum there in one smooth motion. It was salty, like the taste that had been on Billy’s thumb before, and warm. He could hear Billy suck in a tight breath above him, the hands in his hair fidgeting nervously before clamping down hard again.

With his tongue still pressed against the head, Steve slowly worked his way down the shaft, dragging his tongue as he went until his nose was buried in the thick pillow of Billy’s pubic hair. The scent there was heady, distinctly masculine and _hot_ , like Billy had a busy day before he’d picked Steve up from work. Steve was obsessed with it, took big lungfuls of it as he mouthed at the base of Billy’s cock, altogether not knowing at all what he was doing but still enjoying it the same. Billy was grunting and groaning above him, one of his hands having slipped down to cup the back of Steve’s neck, fingernails biting into the top of his spine.

“Steve…,” Billy breathed, a warning, just as Steve dragged his tongue back to the tip, this time curling it along the underside, feeling the surge of blood through the thick vein there. Steve had just barely got his lips wrapped around the head when Billy yanked him off by his hair and pulled back until Steve had to crane his neck to look up at Billy, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. Billy looked like a wild animal staring down at him, his face twisted into a snarl, a sick pleasure in his eyes from seeing Steve arch for him, under his control.

And then the hand was gone completely, Steve letting out a relieved, whimpering breath.

“I’m sorry—,” he started to say, but Billy stopped him short with a kiss, hot and wet and rough. He let Billy ease him back onto the bed, crawling above him until Steve was pressed into the mattress again. When they parted Billy started to shimmy out of his jeans the rest of the way, kicking them off frantically.

“You almost made me come, you brat,” Billy said as his pants slid onto the floor, off the end of the bed, “you hardly even touched me and I almost busted all over your fucking face.” Billy sounded annoyed, words fierce and biting, but Steve could only feel smug, _proud_. He’d almost made Billy fucking Hargrove come from a couple licks to his cock, and Steve didn’t even know what he was doing.

“Get that look off your face, Harrington,” Billy barked, grabbing at what he’d fished from his pockets earlier and, oh, they were back to last names.

There was a tense moment between them, Billy’s rage bubbling over like a boiling pot, getting the better of him like it still did from time to time. Steve wasn’t scared, though, he was never scared of Billy these days, just learned how to work with him and knew when to pick and choose his battles. This, Steve could tell, would brush over in a few minutes, mostly because who could stay angry with an erection that big?

“Hey,” Steve said softly as he reached a hand up to gently cup Billy’s cheek, the tips of his fingers brushing his soft curls. Billy’s eyes softened when he looked at Steve, the tension leaving him so clearly that Steve swore he could see it sizzling out of him like hot steam. He knew he didn’t need to say anything else, knew that Billy had calmed down, but it was like Robin always said, Steve had a horrible case of foot-in-mouth syndrome.

“If it makes you feel any better you totally almost made me bust in my pants earlier.”

As soon as it left his mouth he knew it was a stupid thing to say, but thankfully Billy didn’t seem too hell-bent on tormenting Steve over it. A big grin split his face as he let his head fall onto Steve’s shoulder and started laughing softly, blonde curls tickling at Steve’s neck. Steve couldn’t help but smile and laugh, too, turning his face into the soft mop on Billy’s head so he could feel his hair on his lips, on his cheeks. Steve wanted to remember this moment forever.

Billy’s hands were running down his body now, touching every last part of him that could be reached, caressing and groping and, occasionally, tickling, though Steve was sure that wasn’t intentional. He found himself arching into each pass of Billy’s hands, craving the touch like he’d never craved anything before.

There was a moment between when Billy picked his head up and when he leaned down to kiss him that Steve noticed a small tube in Billy’s hand. It didn’t look too different from a travel-size toothpaste container, but why would Billy have toothpaste now? Steve tried to watch out of the corner of his eye as Billy squeezed some of the substance onto his fingers, but the heat of the kiss took his concentration from him, eyes slipping closed as he worked teeth and tongue and lips against Billy’s mouth.

It wasn’t very long into their kiss that Steve had figured out what exactly was in the tube. His head snapped back from their kiss with a surprised gasp as Billy’s cool, wet fingers brushed against him, Steve’s eyes wide as he stared up at the other boy. Steve hadn’t been expecting this, but then again, he hadn’t been expecting any of it, and he’d liked what they’d gotten into so far.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked in a rush, hips squirming as Billy traced his rim in a smooth circle.

“Just relax, princess,” Billy’s tone was so soothing, a deep warmth to it that had Steve melting into the sheets like the hopeless romantic he was, “you trust me, right?”

Steve bit his lip, glancing down at where Billy’s hand disappeared between his legs and then back up at Billy. Pretty, confident, smart Billy.

“Yeah,” Steve’s voice cracked on the word and he cleared his throat, spreading his legs a little wider, “yeah, I trust you.”

The look that passed over Billy’s face at those words was enough to make Steve’s hear leap out of his chest.

Billy was rubbing again, slow and steady as he caught Steve’s lips in another kiss. It didn’t feel bad, the way Billy was touching him, it was just… different. But the longer Billy touched, the more circles he traced, the better it felt. There was a certain sensitivity that was coming to life, his skin heated and responding to Billy’s touch. Before he even knew it he was making soft noises against Billy’s mouth, parting every so often to take a gasp of air before he was pulled back in. Soon, every press, every stroke had Steve’s cock twitching, a new pleasure he’d never felt before pulsing through him in warm, muted bursts. His hips started arching, rolling, trying to get more friction however he could.

“It’s good?” Billy whispered against his lips, checking in.

“ _Yeah_.”

Steve figured he knew the next step, if sex with a guy was anything like with a girl, so he wasn’t completely surprised when Billy started to press his finger inside slowly, almost _too_ slowly, and even though Steve knew it was just a finger it felt so goddamn _big_. He let his head fall back onto the pillow, parting from Billy’s lips with a hissing breath. It didn’t hurt, per se, but it definitely felt _tight_ and _dry_.

“Mmh,” Steve grunted through pursed lips, eyes squeezed shut tight against the intrusion.

“Does it hurt? I can stop—“

Steve shook his head and sucked in a deep breath through his nose, trying like hell to relax even just a little bit.

“Feels— nngh… It’s kinda dry.” Steve tried shifting his hips but that only made the friction that much more intense, his whole body clenching around what was maybe the first damn knuckle of Billy’s finger.

“I can add more lube but it’s really not…,” Billy murmured as he squirted more of the substance onto his finger, working it in with slow thrusts, inching deeper each time. The extra slick seemed to help, even if it was just a little, Billy’s finger buried deep inside him.

“Shit, fuck,” Steve cursed, glancing between his legs, the motion of Billy’s wrist sending a spike of arousal up his spine despite his flagging erection.

“Jesus Christ, Steve, relax a little.” Billy knocked his legs farther apart with his elbow and ran his free hand down the inside of Steve’s thigh, working his thumb in soothing circles as he went.

“Sorry!” Steve would have liked it if the word sounded less like a squeal, but Billy decided to twist his finger just as Steve had opened his mouth. The kneading at his thigh did seem to help, the tension in his muscles slowly ebbing away.

“Come on, Steve,” Billy whispered, sultry and intimate, “relax for me, baby.”

Steve wasn’t sure what did it for him more, the hand on his cock or being called _baby_ , but both seemed to work wonders. His lips parted on a breathy sound, his body tightening for a brief moment at the shock of pleasure and then unwinding just as quickly as Billy started to stroke his cock back to hardness. Everything was starting to feel good again, including the press of Billy’s finger, sliding in and out easily now that Steve was more focused on his filling cock.

“That’s it, baby, so good for me.”

The praise had Steve arching, filling him with a wonderfully warm feeling that blossomed out from his chest. He could feel the dark blush high on his cheeks, no doubt making the tips of his ears burn bright red. Steve had never wanted anything more than he wanted to be _good_ for Billy.

“You okay for another?”

Steve’s eyes opened, and he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them in the first place, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before he looked down at where Billy was still kneeling between his legs, still working his finger and the fist on Steve’s cock in a slow, even pattern. Steve licked his lips and gave Billy a curt nod, trying to convey as much as possible through silence, through the look in his eyes alone that he still trusted him.

The second finger felt tighter than the first, but thankfully not so dry, the intrusion of both burning him from the inside out. As embarrassing as it was, Steve whimpered, eyes squeezing shut tight again as he reached out with one hand to grip at Billy’s thick bicep. His fingers dug into the flesh probably a little too hard but Billy didn’t seem to notice, too concentrated on giving Steve all of his attention.

The rhythm that Billy picked up was different from before, this time curling and twisting his fingers more than thrusting. Somehow, it was easier for Steve to adjust to two fingers instead of just one, and then Billy did something that felt so amazing that Steve cried out a broken sob, fingernails scraping down the length of Billy’s arm just hard enough to leave red welts in their wake.

“Do that again,” Steve said in a rush, looking up at Billy with fire in his eyes. There was no pain anymore, no discomfort, his body lax against the sheets as he waited for Billy to blow his mind again.

Billy chuckled above him though he obeyed, pressing his fingers against that spot again. Steve threw his head back into his pillow, his hips moving in a frenzy as he tried to buck up into Billy’s fist while also trying to grind down on the fingers inside of him. He probably looked like a mess, thrashing on the bed like he was, but he didn’t care, not when Billy was making him feel so good.

“ _Yes, Billy_ ,” Steve breathed out on a moan, whining as Billy brushed it again and again, mouth permanently stuck open and gaping as he tried to gasp for breath.

Steve gripped at Billy’s wrist where he was jerking him off, halting his movements suddenly. Billy gave him a curious look but allowed his hand to be pulled away from Steve’s cock, instead resting it on his hip.

“Gonna make me come,” Steve murmured, avoiding eye contact as he said so. It was embarrassing but true, this newfound pleasure working him up too much too quickly.

Steve got the feeling that Billy wanted just that to happen, judging by the dark look in his eye, but he kept his attention on working Steve open, leaning down to capture Steve’s lips in an uncoordinated kiss. Steve moaned into Billy’s mouth with every press of his fingers, toes curling and breath frantic.

Billy didn’t warn him about the third finger, though he didn’t really need to, the tightness releasing as soon as Billy scraped against that wonderful spot again. Steve was powerless to him, legs spread wide and wanting as Billy continued to fuck him up with his fingers, spreading them wide to prepare Steve for the girth that was waiting for him.

As if reminded suddenly that Billy had a dick, Steve glanced down to where it was still standing proudly between Billy’s legs, thick and hard and angry-red where it protruded from dirty blonde curls. Steve was amazed that Billy was still so hard without any attention, but Steve was about to change that. Steve made eye contact with Billy as he licked a stripe up his palm before he reached down to take Billy’s cock in hand, stroking from base to tip.

Billy hissed through his teeth and bucked his hips forward, chasing the pleasure. “Mmh, yeah baby, you almost ready for me?” Steve’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when Billy pressed at the bundle of nerves with a purpose.

Steve nodded helplessly, biting his lip innocently as he continued to work Billy’s cock, smearing the precum around the head as it dripped free. Steve wanted to get his mouth around it again, probably not tonight, but _god_ sometime soon. He was salivating just at the thought, wanted to get his lips wrapped tight around the thickness and swallow as much as he possibly could. What would Billy’s cum taste like?

“No,” Steve whined as Billy’s fingers were tugged free, leaving him feeling empty and hornier than he’s ever felt in his life.

“Shh princess, I got you,” Billy soothed as he stroked a hand through Steve’s messy hair, brushing away the pieces that clung to his forehead. He tapped at Steve’s thigh expectantly, and when all he got was a dumb look from the boy below him Billy couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Roll over.”

Steve was slow in his movements, a little confused by the command, but he got onto his stomach regardless, arms tucked under his pillow. Strong hands gripped his hips and then, very unceremoniously, hoisted him up so he was on his knees, face pressed into his pillow. Steve couldn’t help the surprised noise that escaped him, glancing back at Billy over his shoulder only to quickly bury his face back into his pillow when their eyes met. This position… it was _embarrassing_ , he felt so exposed and on display. Face down ass up was not exactly how Steve thought he’d be losing his virginity (it was just a little weird to think of himself as a virgin, after all the chicks he’d fucked in Hawkins).

Billy’s hands were gentle as he eased Steve’s legs a little farther apart, stroking up the back of his thighs until he had Steve’s ass gripped in his hands, squeezing at each cheek as if he were kneading dough. Steve felt so much like a girl in that moment, clean-shaved and presenting, rocking under Billy’s hands because everything the other boy did to him felt so goddamn good.

First, there was the wet swipe of Billy’s thumb, working lube on and around the tight pucker of Steve’s hole, prepping him for what was to come. Then, the blunt head of Billy’s cock, slippery as it butted up against his entrance, and Billy gave a few groaning thrusts, just letting his cock slide between Steve’s slick cheeks. It felt dirty, what Billy was doing to him, but that good kind of dirty that got Steve’s cock twitching and his heart pounding.

“Deep breaths, pretty boy,” Billy comes behind him, and then he was pressing forward, _in_ , and Steve felt like he was going to burst right out of his skin with the sudden rush of nerves that flooded him. This was actually happening, Billy Hargrove was about to fuck him like he had a pussy, and Steve wasn’t sure if he was more terrified or excited by it.

“Billy—,” Steve swallowed, whimpering as the first bit breached, “Billy, wait.” Steve was panting already, desperately gasping for breath as he turned his head away from the pillow so he didn’t feel so suffocated. “The album, i-it’s—,” it was a lame excuse, he knew it, the static silence of the finished record having filled the room for god knows how long now, but he was grasping for anything. He didn’t actually want Billy to stop, not really, he was just a little scared, a little nervous. This must have been what it felt like for all those girls, fidgeting underneath him when he took their virginities.

Billy groaned, deep and feral as the head slipped in, fingers gripping at Steve’s hips as he tensed at the intrusion, tightening around him like a vice. “I don’t give a shit about the album,” Billy breathed, and it was definitely meant to sound firm but it only came across as blissed-out and fucked, “you gotta breathe, baby doll.”

Oh, that was a new one. A shock of delight zipped up Steve’s spine, and he took a deep breath to try and appease Billy’s command. Three fingers was not nearly enough to prepare him for the girth of Billy’s cock, but he tried to breathe through it the same way he breathed through Robin digging her thumbs into the knots in his shoulders. In, out, in, out, like Billy’s shallow thrusts, his cock slipping deeper and deeper on every inward motion.

“Mmm, you’re so tight,” Billy murmured as he bottomed out, and the way he said it was like he was talking about the best damn thing in the world, like there was no place he’d rather be than balls-deep inside Steve Harrington. It helped Steve relax, hearing Billy talk to him like that, and the hand that traced up his spine and then down again certainly helped, too. Steve finally let his hips relaxed back against Billy’s, leaning against him for support.

“That’s it, baby, you’re doing so good.”

Steve arched under the praise, a soft noise of content pushing past his lips.

“How’s it feel?”

“Big— _hah_.” It was cruel, how Billy decided to experimentally grind his hips like that just as Steve opened his mouth, but the drag of his cock deep inside lit a fire in Steve that had been waiting to ignite. He gave a good grind back of his own, moaning loudly at the friction.

“You saying I got a big dick, princess?” It was meant to be a tease, Steve could tell, but it came out breathy and desperate, which filled Steve with such an empowering feeling that he couldn’t explain.

“Yeah,” Steve moaned, grinding back on that thick cock again.

Billy seemed to appreciate the sentiment, his hips pulling back just slightly before pressing back in deep again. Steve couldn’t take that nothing was happening, that Billy was just sitting there, buried to the hilt. He needed more, fucking _craved_ it, his hole fluttering around Billy’s fat cock. He tried to move his hips, tried to rock forward so he could sink back again, but Billy held his hips tight, keeping him where he was.

“You want something?” Billy asked, pulling out just a little again before snapping his hips forward. Steve moaned, broken and wanting. “You gotta tell me what you want, baby doll.”

Steve whimpered, completely unabashed, his fingers gripping at the sheets. “Fuck me,” Steve whined, glancing at Billy over his shoulder, “ _please, Billy_.”

The sound that Billy made could only be described as a growl, like a hungry animal ready to attack. It had Steve vibrating with arousal, and for once he as able to hold Billy’s gaze, eyes half-lidded and downright seductive as he tried to give Billy his best ‘fuck me’ eyes. It was incredibly fucking hot seeing Billy like this, sweaty and taut with arousal, his muscles bulging with the effort to keep himself from pounding Steve like he knew he wanted to.

And then he was pulling out, slow and steady until just the head was left, Billy’s attention falling to where they were connected. Steve was a little jealous, wished he could see Billy’s cock dragging out of him, the head catching on his rim before he started to plunge back in, pulling a long, drawn-out moan from Steve’s lungs. Billy looked like he was loving it, watching his cock disappear inside of him until he was buried deep again only to pull back out. Steve felt that empowerment again, knowing that Billy was so damn entranced with _him_ and the pleasure he could give him. Steve had thought he’d given up his control form this position, but really it was quite the opposite.

“Faster,” Steve whispered, and Billy’s gaze flickered up to meet Steve’s for a moment before looking down again, picking up the speed.

Steve’s mouth hung open on a silent moan, eyelids fluttering closed as he let himself sink into the pleasure. He’d never felt anything like this before, didn’t even understand how it could feel so fucking good, but he let it consume him, his breaths coming out in desperate, gasping little pants. Billy was groaning behind him, his hands wandering over Steve’s ass, his hips, his thighs, pinching at the beauty marks that were sprinkled all over Steve’s body.

“So pretty…,” Billy murmured, the nail of his index finger connecting the dots along the base of Steve’s spine, “my pretty boy.”

Steve was bouncing back against Billy’s thrusts now, meeting each one with gusto. “Mm, _ahh_ , Billy!” Steve cried, the sound of his headboard smacking against his wall escalating louder and louder as their thrusts picked up in intensity.

Steve pushed himself up onto an elbow and gripped the headboard with his free hand, grounding himself so he wouldn’t keep slipping forward against the sheets. Billy adjusted the angle of his hips to accommodate Steve’s new position, and the first thrust back in had Steve seeing stars. He cried out and threw his head back, his grip on the headboard knuckle-white. Each thrust after that was like a godsend, pinpointed right at that spot Billy had found earlier with his fingers.

“ _Ah! Ah! Ah!_ Right there, _fuck_ , Billy! Right there, right there.” Steve was babbling mindlessly, prepared to do anything in his power to keep Billy fucking him just like that. One of the hands that had been exploring his freckles reached up to fist in his hair, pulling until Steve had to arch his back, driving Billy deeper inside of him.

“You like that?” Billy growled, the bite of his fingers tugging unforgivingly at his hair sending sharp spikes of pleasure down his spine, raising goosebumps to his skin.

Steve wailed, open-mouthed on a half-sob, sucking breaths through his teeth between every moan. “Yes, I love it, I love it!”

Their skin was slapping together now, the room too hot from the summer air and their body heat, the smell of Steve’s stupid sex candle too strong in his nose. Everything felt like it was turned up to eleven, every sensation stronger than the last from being fucked so stupid. All Steve cared about was cock, Billy’s cock, fucking into him harder and faster with every thrust, the rhythm faltering as Billy got closer and closer to orgasm. Steve felt close, too, right on the edge with every thrust, but never quite getting there. He was too focused on the cock inside of him to think about his own, but thankfully Billy still had enough mind for the both of them.

The hand in Steve’s hair let loose, his head falling forward between his shoulders as he struggled to keep his grip on the headboard. He wanted to come, wanted to feel it rush over his entire body like a tidal wave, and he wanted Billy to be the reason for it. The hand that had been in his hair circled around his cock then, answering his prayer, and Steve couldn’t stop the broken sob that left him as he finally got the attention he needed.

“Billy, Billy _please_ , I-I w— _ohh_ , I wanna _come_ ,” Steve pleaded, and then Billy was stroking, hard and fast and Steve was a _goner_.

It only took two, maybe three strokes before Steve was shouting, “Billy, I’m coming!”

He moaned long and loud through the whole thing, rope after rope of cum splattering on his belly, his chest, the sheets, dribbling over Billy’s knuckles on the final pulses of it. Billy fucked him through his orgasm, hard and determined, and Steve swore he’d never come so hard in his life. He felt like it was never going to end, never _wanted_ it to end, each throb of his cock wrecking him more and more.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from falling forward onto his face again once he was rolling on after-shocks, his entire body boneless as Billy kept fucking him. Every thrust after that was just a little too much, his body over-sensitive and trembling. Thankfully Billy wasn’t far behind, suddenly pulling out and jerking his own cock frantically with the slick of Steve’s cum on his fingers until he was moaning Steve’s name and spilling all over his ass. The first few shots were strong enough that Steve felt them land up his back, reaching all the way up to his ribs. If Steve wasn’t so fucked out he would have thought it was hot that he made Billy come that hard.

Once Billy was done groaning and working the last drops of his cum from his dick he collapsed on the bed beside Steve, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. Steve turned his head so he could face the other boy and let his legs sink down until he was laying in his own mess, still too high on his orgasm to worry about cleaning himself up. There was an obscene amount of cum on Billy’s hand, no doubt a mixture of both of their spunk, and Billy just held it suspended in the air while he caught his breath.

“I need a cigarette,” Billy broke the silence, though he made no move to get up. Steve chuckled beside him and brought his head down to rest on Billy’s shoulder, the soreness in his legs and arms and _ass_ finally becoming a reality as he started to come back down to earth.

“Me too,” Steve murmured, placing a soft kiss to the damp skin of Billy’s shoulder.

When Billy finally turned to look at him it stole Steve’s breath away, the beauty of him fresh in his mind. He was smiling, a soft smile that made Steve smile right back, and when he leaned over to kiss Steve on the forehead it had him melting into the sheets.

“There’s tissues on the nightstand,” Steve murmured, but Billy caught his lips in a soft kiss instead of reaching for them. It was short, chaste, and oh-so-sweet, and somehow it managed to leave Steve just as breathless as when they were making out.

“Thanks, princess,” Billy said with a sly grin as he rolled over to grab a handful of tissues to clean himself up with. He tossed them on the end table and sat up, grabbed more so he could clean Steve up, too. The moment felt so intimate, Billy taking care to make sure he wiped up every drop, leaning down to place a kiss between Steve’s shoulder blade before he stretched over the end of the bed to grab his pants.

When he flopped back down beside Steve he had a cigarette between his lips, lit and smoking. He took a deep drag, moaning as he breathed the smoke out. Steve shuffled up onto is elbows so he could take a drag himself, and Billy was sweet enough to hold it for him, pulled it away when Steve’s eyes closed in contentment. He breathed the smoke out through his nose and blindly followed the hand at the back of his head that guided him down to kiss Billy’s soft lips, their tongues lazily lapping at each other.

When they parted, Billy gave a soft tug to Steve’s hair, his eyes glinting in that way they always did he when he wanted to say something. Steve waited, patiently, and when nothing ever came he was okay with that, too. Billy didn’t always say was he was thinking at first, but he’d get there.

It could wait ’till next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Only Billy would wear a leather jacket and boots during summer smh.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!!
> 
> find me on twitter: @dopplegangbangs


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